Eighty-Eight Years

  Tonina’s grandfather, Sir Arthur Richmond, wrote two books about his life: the first, "Twenty-Six Years," and the second, "Another Sixty Years." His gentle, measured recollections became a family touchstone—stories passed down at gatherings, rmembered for their warmth and quiet wisdom.

After a life that has given us so many memories, the best title for a book about Tonina feels simply and perfectly like 

Eighty-Eight Years. 

  This volume serves as a family record of the life and legacy of Tonina Mary Watkins, née Gianetti, the matriarch of the Watkins family. Though deeply personal, her story belongs to all her descendants, for it embodies the values, traditions, and resilience that have shaped us.

  Much of Tonina’s past survives in recollections, handwritten notes, and the photographic albums she curated with care. While many letters, photographs, and heirlooms were lost in the fire that destroyed her father Guido’s flat on Ragbir Street, her devotion to preservation ensured that enough remained to document her narrative.

  After her passing in 2021, we recovered more than fifteen boxes of albums from her home at Pentwyn y Lladron (The Thieves’ Den). These albums, unlike the digital scrapbooks of today, stand as tangible artifacts—each page a deliberate record of childhood milestones, family gatherings, and the enduring partnership she shared with Colyn David Watkins.

  Together, Tonina and Colyn documented their lives through photographs, diaries, and letters to family. Those records reveal the rhythms of daily life, the quiet strength of their bond, and the values they sought to instill in their children. In honoring Tonina as matriarch, this memoir also acknowledges that their life was a shared journey.

By compiling these memories, this book ensures that Tonina’s descendants—children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren—may come to know her more fully. It preserves not only the facts of her life but the spirit of devotion, resilience, and love that defined her, safeguarding the Watkins family’s heritage for generations to come.

  My parents, Guido Giovanni (“G”) Gianetti and Mary Victoria Fraser (Molly) Beattie, were married in Trinidad on April 7, 1931. That same year marked a milestone in the island’s history: the first airplane landing at Piarco Airport, following Charles Lindbergh’s scouting visit two years earlier. Until then, travel to Trinidad had been possible only by steamship, a reminder of the modern changes unfolding as my life began.

  I was born at 6:30 p.m. on January 31 in Port of Spain, at a nursing home on Tranquility Street. Dr. Ritchie, a former Trinidad tennis champion, reluctantly left a nearby match to deliver me. I weighed seven pounds, two ounces, arrived with a full head of dark hair, and was born in a year marked by a rare hurricane that touched our southernmost island of the Caribbean.

  I grew up with two affectionate nicknames: “T” in childhood and “Ginny” in college, both drawn from my given name. My early years in Trinidad were shaped by sun, sand, and sea. My younger brother Ian was born on August 3, 1935, and together we enjoyed an idyllic childhood. We were not wealthy, but our family lived comfortably in a home rooted in community and tradition.

  From 1932 through 1938, we took biennial summer voyages by ocean liner to the United Kingdom to visit relatives and friends in London, Kent, and Dingwall, Scotland. I still remember one journey in 1938 when we saw King George VI in a passing cavalcade in London—one of those small, bright memories that family lore preserves. Those travels came to an abrupt halt with the outbreak of World War II in September 1939 and did not resume until after peace returned in May 1945.

  The war years profoundly shaped our lives. Trinidad’s oil refineries and strategic position near the Panama Canal and the Gulf of Mexico made the island vital to the Allied effort. The United States established naval and air bases at Carenage and Chaguaramas and even set up a jungle training school at Manzanilla. Trinidad became a staging point for merchant convoys bound for the United Kingdom and endured the danger of persistent U-boat attacks.

  My mother answered the call of those times by working with the Red Cross, caring for sailors who came ashore from some of the more than 400 ships sunk in the Caribbean between 1942 and 1943. Her quiet dedication left a strong impression on me and on our community, and it was one of the ways our family felt connected to the larger sweep of history around us.

 Tonina grew up in Trinidad between the two world wars and through the Second World War, a childhood shaped by both cherished local traditions and wide-reaching international connections. During family visits to the United Kingdom, the Gianetti family spent time with Arthur and Thea Richmond and with Ubaldo and Barbara Gianetti. Mary often took the family to Dingwall, Scotland, where they would gather with friends and relatives from the area. Family lore even holds that Guido and Tonina’s brother Ian saw the Loch Ness Monster while visiting Urquhart Castle on one of those trips, a story that only added to the magic of their travels. 

  At home in Trinidad, Tonina’s childhood was marked by love and safety. Life meant sun, sand, and sea; Carnival, the beach, and lasting friendships formed the steady rhythm of her early years. Her closest companions included Edith Davies and Heather McDonald, and a wider circle—Ian and Gilly McDonald, Ian Lawrie, Danny De La Bastide, and Ian Gianetti—spent much of their time together. Those friendships were woven so tightly into family life that years later, Danny married Tonina’s brother Ian, further entwining kin and friends.

  Students from the Imperial College of Tropical Agriculture often joined these outings and gatherings, bringing fresh energy and new connections. Among them were Liam Murray and Colyn Watkins, who would later marry Heather and Tonina, respectively. Edith married John Stallman, an American working in water and sanitation, and remarkably, this group of friends remained close throughout their lives, their bonds strengthened by the shared experiences of youth and tradition.

The “parties” of Tonina’s childhood were often the dazzling celebrations of Trinidad Carnival: vibrant calypso, the resonant steelpan, the daring limbo, the exuberant dancing known as “jump up,” and the elaborate ritual of costume dressing, “playing mas.” These festivities were more than mere revelry; they were cultural touchstones that rooted Tonina in music, community, and a joyful sense of belonging that she carried with her always.

  Music was a constant presence in the Gianetti household. Guido, an accomplished pianist, filled the evenings with Beethoven, Mozart, and other favorites, and he would joke with his cousin Sophie that he might have been a concert pianist if such a path had suited a gentleman of his time. Tonina loved the Moonlight Sonata, and as she raised her own children, she encouraged them to learn piano, passing along both musical skill and a deep appreciation for the arts.

  The Gianetti home was also alive with sports. Guido had been athletic from his youth—playing rugby at school and excelling at tennis and golf—and his children inherited that same love of athletics. Ian Gianetti went on to captain the Harvard tennis team, while Tonina herself became a strong player. Their circle included Ian McDonald, who played at the Davis Cup and Wimbledon and later distinguished himself as a writer and poet, best known for The Hummingbird Tree. Together, music, sport, and enduring friendships shaped a life rich in memory and affection.